


Silent wings

by ardvari



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 02:51:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10653399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ardvari/pseuds/ardvari
Summary: She stretched out under the cool cotton sheets, closed her eyes and thought back to a time when she had stretched out like this in a tiny single bed. How the sheets had felt crisp and wonderful and how she had thought that nothing, nothing in the whole wide world could harm her in that bed.





	Silent wings

**Author's Note:**

> Post _Living Doll_

She stretched out under the cool cotton sheets, closed her eyes and thought back to a time when she had stretched out like this in a tiny single bed. How the sheets had felt crisp and wonderful and how she had thought that nothing, nothing in the whole wide world could harm her in that bed.

It felt like yesterday that she had looked up at the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling, had looked at them until they became a faint glimmer, a faint green planet far, far away. The first years of insomnia, a night filled with adventures and book after book she had read under the blanket with the flashlight her father thought he had lost. 

Sometimes her imagination had been the only safe place, a place where fairies kissed her eyelids and unicorns explained why on earth life was so difficult and that she would just have to hang on because hanging on was essential in life. 

Hanging on was all it was really about. Hang on and stare at life as it rushes by like a supercharged freight train heading for God-only-knows-where. Hang on and smile, even if you don’t mean it. 

She had the best fake smile in the world, one that never reached her eyes, one that was so forced it hurt. 

Her feet stretching out under the blankets, feeling the cool softness grace her toes and the soft, oh so sensitive skin on her feet, she sighed softly. Her sigh became inaudible as the air conditioning hummed to life like a gazillion insects hovering in the basement of the house, wing upon tiny, fragile wing beating fast, fast, faster until all the hot air was gone. She could see their bodies shining, hues of silky blues and greens as they effortlessly moved around. 

Sara had stopped being afraid a long time ago. The part where the fear had been was black now, and empty. Still there but the door had been locked and sealed with yellow tape and something very much like fear but different. A feeling of discomfort, of a chunk of ice sitting right there in front of that door and she’d need a fire dragon to melt that chunk of ice. 

The fire was gone though and the smoke was choking her. She needed the fire dragon and the fear and she really, really needed to scream and be scared so she could start to forget. 

She’d never forget.

She needed to move on and get over herself. 

From the looks and the worry carved into his face, she could tell he saw through her façade, could see right through that fake smile and into her eyes where the smile never reached. Her soul cried out through her eyes and he asked her if everything was okay and she said “I’m fine” and “Don’t worry” and her eyes screamed and called her a liar. 

She turned around on the soft mattress, turned until she found a cool spot between the spot her body had warmed and the spot where he was sleeping. 

This wasn’t a single bed and there were no stars on the ceiling. There was a small red light on the TV that shone on regardless of what happened. A little red light that never dimmed, that shone mechanically and relentlessly and uncaring as the world spun out of control around her. 

She lifted her head, looked across his frame and at the clock on his nightstand that ticked the minutes away. Tick, tick, like a man in a room marking off squares on a big white sheet of paper. 

Insomnia, once you got used to it, wasn’t so bad. It gave her time to think, lots of time and she had learned a long time ago that getting frustrated didn’t help. And she didn’t want to take sleeping pills, not even now when the doctor and the counselor told her that she should, that she needed to rest. Her body would only heal if it got rest but her body was fine damn it and so was her head except for that dark, empty place.

In that place she wanted to put the feel of wet, utterly soaked soil beneath her head and her hand and in her mouth. She wanted to put that feeling of helplessness and claustrophobia in there and shut the door. Deal with it, get over it.

What Sara Sidle really wanted to do was break down the way she had done three years ago in her apartment, when Grissom had held her hand. She wanted to break down and cry and deal with it because not being able to deal with it was eating away at her. More than she ever thought it would.

She was pretty good at bottling it all up inside and pretend that the sun rose just for her in the morning. In fact, she was so good at it she almost, almost managed to make herself believe that it was true.

Another small shift out of her warm spot and right up to his warm back, a back she enjoyed curling up to because it was reassuring and much like a wall she could bounce against and hang on to. A place where she could catch her breath without having to deal with his eyes, having to look into them and see that he was starting to feel her slip away when all she really wanted was to hold the fuck on. 

He mumbled something in his sleep, sighed deeply as he reached around, put his hand on her hip awkwardly and left it there even though Christ, it must be uncomfortable. 

Finally he turned, eyes open and worried and she smiled painfully. Blue eyes drilled into brown ones and he sighed again. Sighed because he didn’t know what to do, didn’t know anything about far away green planets and a gazillion wings beating frantically in their basement. 

He didn’t even know how to deal with this because she was the one who always knew about things like that and she was blank as a sheet of fresh printer paper. No guidance and he wasn’t skilled enough to figure this out. Left alone in the middle of an empty dance floor, he swayed awkwardly to the remainder of a slow, sad song and wanted with all his heart for her to come and take his hand and smile. 

He missed her smile, the real and brilliant smile that made the world bearable. 

“Go back to sleep.” she whispered, willing him to close his eyes as she ran a finger down his forehead, over the bridge of his nose the way she’d seen mothers do with their babies. 

His eyes lingered on hers for a moment before he closed them, pulled her closer to him and made sure she was warm and safe because if he couldn’t get back her soul he would at least hold on to her body. 

She laid in the dark, listened to his heartbeat, less erratic than those big heavy drops on the metal of that car. The air conditioning stopped with a clang and she imagined all those bugs down there resting, their wings still as the tiny red eye of the TV outshone her green planets.


End file.
